


Mulholland Drive

by sweetpca



Series: Bad Royals [2]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Bisexual Characters, Bisexual!Fangs Fogarty, Blood and Injury, Blow Jobs, Blow Jobs in a Car, Cocaine, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Future Fic, Gambling, M/M, Marijuana, Mild S&M, Multi, Near Death Experiences, Oral Sex, Overdosing, Public Sex, Ratings: R, Recreational Drug Use, Rough Sex, Slow Burn, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking, not really a romance, sexual favours
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 12:49:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14165190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetpca/pseuds/sweetpca
Summary: Drugs, sex, money and booze. The Southside of Riverdale was every addicts paradise.Sabine Abernathy is a respected, valued and cherished member of one of New York's many mafia families; she's remained loyal to her family and friends in their darkest of times, but seems to have a hard time keep her own head above water. Fresh out of college, Sabine returns to her best friend's hometown in search of her former flame Fangs Fogarty, and finds herself falling through the cracks of rock bottom.





	Mulholland Drive

I.V. cocaine satisfaction is judged _after_ the rush since the best rushes are paralyzingly scary. The best rush sits next to the one that kills you — the terrifying thing is, you’re willing to play that game of risk just to feel that high _one_ more time.

I woke with a bloodied mouth, and struggled to stay awake as the overwhelming terror and doom swept me into thinking that I was already dead. My mouth was bitten to shreds, and every muscle in my body screaming with every breath I took. The needle laying next to me had been crushed into the carpet — I must have broken it sometime during the night. Each nod in my fight to stay awake teleported me forward in time felt like the last moment I’d ever live. That if I let myself go, if I _just_ let go, I’d never wake up and that much I was sure.

My first experience with intravenous cocaine was what got me hooked. I found a vein and pushed the plunger. It was an instant rush; I felt better. Completely better. The hurt in my heart never existed, the pain in my life momentarily subsided, and I felt like dancing. I began to sing to the music I had been struggling to enjoy just moments prior, enjoyed the company despite previously feeling out of place. The euphoric sensation didn’t leave me with any physical sensations _—_ no cottonmouth, no head buzz. Just pure love for my life and that specific moment.

I threw up twice and came down from the high. Despite wanting to feel like the world was at peace again, I managed to say no and walk away. _Know your limit_ , my mind chanted.

My first bad high nearly convinced me right then I shouldn’t have touched it again, but I did. I found a vein and pushed the plunger. Instantly, my mouth went dry. Sucking on cotton balls and eating sandpaper dry. I became hypersensitive to everything around me; the hum from the fan in the room became apparent and then louder. Deafening. A mix of pitches and noises from all audible appliances growing with my expanding anxiety and shaking body.   

What happened last night was the final bellringer for me, and now I understood that I _needed_ help. Unsure if I had already taken a shot earlier in the night, I thought _what the hell_ ; arm, vein, plunger. Before the barrel had been emptied, I could hear the increasing noise from the on the ceiling, and my head began to buzz with this intensity I had never experienced before.

 _This is gonna be good_ , I had thought eagerly to myself.

There was more shaking, noises increasing with each passing moment and then finally, an aura. I knew the aura had meant I had overdone it. I remember laying on the floor, music blasting from my phone’s speaker as my eyes drifted in and out of focus. In that moment I hadn't been terrified my life could have ended. I had been on cloud nine. 

And then I woke up like this. With Fangs standing over me, anxiety overtaking his features as he held the phone to his ear. He was screaming, that much I was sure. There was anger and disappointment — but none of it compared to the worry. The tears in his eyes and the tension in his jaw were all the tells that needed to know that I had _fucked up_ and pushed my limits with him too far this time.


End file.
